As the spring equinox coincides with our full moon this week I think it is worth spending some time contemplating balance. What does this word mean or inspire in you? Where might we have balance in our life and where might we fall short? Are we motivated to seek balance or driven to pursue the opposite. Do we always play to our strengths or go hard at our weaknesses or can we be a delicate mix of both. How do we view our balance or lack of on the yoga mat? If we promoted more balance in our lives how would our health and well-being respond?

On the equinox we find ourselves at this point of balance, 12 hours of dark, 12 hours of sunlight. Now days we have many ways to manipulate our external conditions to bypass acknowledging this transition. In days gone by the equinox in the northern hemisphere would signal the onset of spring, the darkness surrendering to longer days, more warmth, light and energy for the busy joys of summer. We might definitely appreciate the appearance of lighter days, especially if we are getting up early for practice, perhaps too we are looking forward to the ability to spend more hours outside with the spring flowers and new growth all around. This may well apply to practice too, as in the colder months it is harder to sustain peak performance in the body, we might have a warm yoga room yet still face a lot of cold and stiff times outside of that. Taking note of nature, we can relate to the first signs of spring as a way to bud and begin something we would like to blossom and grow over the warmer summer months. It could be taking the steps towards what you hope to manifest in your practice, or perhaps it involves how to infuse the insights of practice more fully into life. Some journalling can be very useful here…

For me these days, balance involves paying more attention to my relationship with the rhythms, cycles and seasons around me. A big part of this is trying to eat more local and seasonal produce. Be conscious of what you buy, where it might have flown from, what communities might be affected by it.

This book was a Christmas pressie that I am loving and today I am cooking up a storm including some spring seasonal rhubarb. I think contemplating how you nourish yourself is a big part of balance.

book 2 sūtra 4

avidyā-kṣhetram-uttareṣhāṃ prasupta-tanu-vichchhinnodārāṇām

Ignorance is the field for the other [kleśhas], which can appear as dormant, weak, interrupted, or operative.

avidyā ignorance, nescience

kṣhetram field

uttareṣhām for the others, for the following

prasupta dormant

tanu weak

vichchhinna interrupted, alternated, overpowered

udārāṇām operative, expanded

I feel it is important to include and consider this sūtra as often when we are making changes, breaking habits and instilling new understanding in their place we have periods where we might feel almost as if we are on a never-ending ascent, we start to get somewhere only to slide back again without quite realising how or why. Perhaps for example we started the year so committed and behind our latest venture only to find ourselves here in march already fallen off the wagon…

Patanjali describes the four stages afflictions will arise in :-

prasupta - dormant - afflictions are sleeping and currently not ruling the roost, however they are not overcome and may become active given the right circumstances.

tanu - weak - this stage describes an affliction that although still exisiting in the mind in subtle form is not acted upon in the present potentially due to our continued perseverance in the practices of Kriya Yoga. The last 3 limbs of Patanjali’s eight-limbed path of Ashtanga Yoga are proposed as very useful components in the process of weakening all afflictions, as is steadfast work to cultivate the opposite, for example truth vs ignorance, neutrality vs the push and pull of attachment and aversion.

vichchhinna - interrupted or alternating - considers when an affliction appears and disappears, alternating between being active and inactive, at times it is subdued and at other times can become provoked. This stage may also describe our initial efforts to work with the affliction, in certain circumstances we are effective but in others we revert to conditioned ingrained behaviours and cannot maintain consistency.

udāra - operative - relates to the afflictions being very much active and operative in our life experience. The mind is enticed by worldly desires and driven to achievement, making the mind also a slave to the afflictions described last month in our previous sūtra. This is a common place to find ourselves until we start to dive into greater philosophical and spiritual study and also a place we often begin our yoga practice in. Hopefully with a willingness to look deeper into uncovering the wealth of teachings behind this ancient discipline of yoga we won’t be fooled into thinking we are practicing something that is simply not the case. We might pursue new ‘healthy’ desires, but they are desires nonetheless until we question their origins and the full scope of their teachings.

Understanding the four states of the afflictions is key to understanding how both the mind and the process of purification work. When we begin the spiritual path, all the afflictions are active. The mind is not under our control as it swings from one emotional state to another. Gradually through the practices of yoga, the afflictions are weakened and rendered dormant. If we continue our efforts all the way to discriminative wisdom (viveka khyāti), the dormant afflictions get “roasted” or permanently disabled. This cycle is true for the afflictions as a whole, but it can also be understood in the context of a single emotion, bad habit or addiction, or any obstacle to peace.

Patanjali acknowledges that ultimately the afflictions themselves all trace back to avidyā, the soul is bound in ignorance and from that place the need for egoism, attachment, aversion and clinging to life arise. By engaging in the practices of yoga we are gifted the opportunity to begin to identify, reflect, challenge and eventually transform what binds us in this illusion and this work is required both on the surface level with the particular emotions, patterns, habits or behaviours and the deeper level of weakening and shifting the affliction at its roots.

So in the context of life I will present two examples you may reflect upon, the first related to getting on our mat and the second considering the work that happens once we’re there.

Example 1 -

So let’s consider the existence of the current urge we have to come home after a hard days work, put the tv on and drink a glass or two of wine. We might very much be in the active state here, whereby our mind has developed a pattern for managing our stress levels by craving things that help it supposedly wind down and switch off.

However perhaps we start to discover the practice of yoga and a particular class we like happens to be early in the morning, something we would do at the beginning of our day to inspire and shape our day. There is a drive to pursue this yoga practice in the search of something new, a potential to feel differently, an alternative route to the peace we seek, yet we find ourselves in an interrupted pattern to begin. Sometimes we manage to go to bed early enough to get up for class, sometimes we drink too much wine get lodged on the sofa and sleep through our alarm the next day. This way be a frustrating stage where we strive for change but also backslide easily. Some days we manage to break the habit but other times we slip back.

The practice of yoga is patient and over time we may be drawn more and more to it’s appeal, we note on the days we do get up early, we feel better for practicing and our days have a different sense of awareness and clarity to them. As a result we become less attached to managing our stress via tv and wine and more engaged in a practice that weakens their hold by encouraging us to go to bed early, wake up with a clear head and engage in conscious movement. We probably still find and will admit at this stage that the lure of a cosy night on the sofa with netflix is a heavy pull and significant continued effort and will is required to resist our habitual urges.

Yet with the continued effort we invest to practice we arrive more regularly at a place which offers us peace and insight, we might change our evening habits without regret, investing energy in a new routine without a second thought for our old ways.

We could at this point in time be tricked into thinking we’ve made it… and this can be a trap where many fall, for although our afflictions are dormant they still lie in wait and with the right conditions may germinate again in future. Perhaps we lose our job or suffer a heartbreak and revert back to the sofa and the wine bottle as a coping strategy, or worse still, perhaps we hurt ourselves being overly ambitious in a yoga pose and blame the yoga itself for putting us back on the couch. We must remember the ancient practices of yoga as Baba Hari Dass describes are to ‘change the soil of the mind.’ Afflictions like seeds will only sprout and take root if the soil allows it to be so, but if we can make a robust internal change then even when external conditions appear to conspire against us we can trust there is no fertile soil or opportunity for them again.

In Baba Hari Dass’s commentary he talks of roasted seeds (dagdha bīja) whereby the fire of discrimination has rendered the seed unable to germinate again. It doesn’t simply lie in wait for optimal conditions to reappear but can no longer sprout at all. In the early stages of practice we may need to retreat from desires, take time away so we are not tempted but hopefully in time we do not need to avoid participating in the world to resist, for our minds have changed in their relationship to the urges we once had.

Example 2 -

Now we have been on the mat a while we start to become aware of a limiting belief pattern. A way in which our internal dialogue chats away and becomes heightened in certain circumstances, such as at a certain posture we have difficulty with, or if the room is too hot for our liking or the person next to us appears more advanced. The afflictions we face of course vary for each of us depending on our family origins, past experiences and how the world has shaped us to date. Maybe the common emotion we experience in times of difficultly is fear or anger, perhaps when under threat we default to blame or choose to placate. Our yoga practice can be a gateway into deeper consciousness and rather than acting out or staying trapped in a prison of our own making we can start to inquire where the walls came from and how we continue to let them perpetuate. If only we could draw ourselves into the moment, a unity of breath and body might we observe our dialogue looses it’s hold. It may be that our foray into the moment lasts only seconds before we are gripped by the mind’s preoccupation with the past or future again, and the afflictions that bind us, but when we start to see such moments exist we are driven to continue on the path.

On this new moon, I would invite you to enquire into a common thread that arises in your internal dialogue, can you notice it, pay attention to what triggers it. Would you say it’s hold over you is operative, alternating, weak or dormant, wherever you find yourself perhaps you might see that the practices of Kriya yoga we’ve been considering could come in very handy….

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it is what you see.” Henry David Thoreau

I wasn’t planning to write on this topic in relation to the sutra we are studying this month, but it seems pertinent that perhaps you would benefit from a little more information on gaze as I have had a few conversations this month concerning the need for it.

Dristi is fundamental to the Ashtanga method and serves to deeply increase our yogic process over time. Dristi refers to our gaze point and looking place, with each posture in our sequence having a designated point that encourages us to develop focus, aid the withdrawal of our senses, harness our concentration, develop our awareness and also align the posture in a beneficial and protective way.

When we are in a particular posture there is always a designated ‘looking place’ and in general some rules apply to help one learn this. For example, if your arms are overhead, it is likely you will be gazing up to the thumbs as they meet in prayer, or the top hand in trikonasana or parsvakonasana. In contrast if you are folding forward and in upon yourself so to speak, often you might be looking to the nose tip or the toes. So we see that the application of a gaze point not only stimulates a harnessing of our attention away from the noise or distraction that surround us, yet also a method in which to provide direction and alignment to the structure of the pose. If we are moving upwards for example Virabhadrasana (Warrior 1) position in our sun salutations, it makes sense to follow our thumbs upwards and express the lifting motion and natural inclination of the in breath to take us up. If we in contrast are folding forward such as the second movement (dve) in surya namaskara, it makes sense to look to our nose to allow a complete fold to take place, releasing and relaxing the head, back of neck and skull and enabling a precious anti-gravity affect to intervene and encourage softness, especially when our modern society places so much strain on our necks. The breath and movements invite contrast and the gaze can enhance the experience. I would also encourage in the these movements to notice how much the eyes can move independent of the head, so that throwing the head back isn’t considered necessary or essential to directing the eyes up to the thumbs (they can be seen whilst keeping healthy extension in the neck). Lastly Urdva Mukha Svanasana (Upward facing dog) is worth a mention as the gaze is the nose tip, not upward. I think by lifting and expanding the front of the body whilst simultaneously looking down the nose enables a safe attitude to be adopted towards the joint actions, rather then hingeing and straining one connection alone. Instead, intelligently thinking of creating an upward trend throughout the posture right from the tops of the feet to the crown of the head, without compromising the vulnerable parts by placing all the bend in the lumbar (lower back) and cervical (neck) vertebrae and the rest of the vertebrae and movement possibilities of the back and front not being discovered and explored.

Also why I have chosen the topic of dristi this moon day is due to the trend I have recently observed in my students particularly to close their eyes in postures, even headstand, when a gaze point is so dramatically useful. I think this might cross over from other slower more relaxing forms of yoga where eyes closed might be encouraged. In Ashtanga however dristi is very much an essential component of the method to refine attention and develop powerful one-pointed focus. We are awake and engaged in action, so to clarify, there is no point within practice where the eyes close, only once finished and lying for final relaxation. If you are uncertain of a dristi please feel free to ask and if in doubt often a soft gaze towards the nose will help the quality of your practice dramatically.

When practicing in a mysore environment surrounded by others at different stages in the sequence it also helps the student to remain devoted to their experience, limiting the desire to look around, reducing comparison, judgement, being nosey and becoming distracted. Learning over time to reduce the need to look about and allow the mind to wander off but instead keep returning to the breath, sensation and experience of the moment. This does take a great deal of discipline and in fact, the will and decision as to why it is even helpful. Yet over time dristi often comes to be greatly appreciated, accentuating our understanding that the experience of yoga has little to do with the ‘perfect’ external physical shape but much more to do with the yoking together of mind and body in cohesive action. Staying and inhabiting your experience even if it is difficult rather than being enticed elsewhere because it appears more entertaining. Hopefully here you can see links to the kleshas (obstacles) at work, with the mind constantly conjuring up ways to find other experiences more interesting and avoid the discomfort of staying in what we are in. This links in to the overall ignorance of our situation in life, constantly looking outside of ourselves for the answers, where instead yoga invites us to yearn to look more deeply within. To learn to screen out external distraction that pulls at the senses, to bask in the value of the precious moments where we may catch glimpses of ourselves.

So, for the rest of the month I would encourage you to dive into the insights offered by dristi, learning to stay resting upon the breath even when the mind tries to trick you and lead you astray. By enhancing a clear focus in asana practice, perhaps we notice the things we find challenging will start to shift and improve? If we enter a challenging position or posture, rather than being at the whim of our thoughts, memories and presumptions can we show up and stay focused, narrow and channel our efforts to remain present. Then maybe if we begin to see the benefits of concentration and applying ourselves with consciousness and direction on the mat it could well become evident that in life too, applying more focus and fully participating in the moment at hand evokes greater richness and sweetness to our experiences and interactions.…

The quote above can be open to much interpretation but I like to think that Thoreau was encouraging us to look beneath the surface, to notice the subtleties and layers to things, to see each other with freshness and delight rather than allowing assumptions to dominate. To be curious and open to seeing things not for their limitations but for the possibilities and their inherent divinity.

avidyā-'smitā-rāga-dveṣhābhiniveśhāḥ pañcha kleśhāḥ

The five afflictions are ignorance, egoism, attraction, repulsion, and fear of death.

avidyā - ignorance

asmitā - egoism, “I amness”

rāga - attachment, attraction

dveṣha - repulsion, aversion

abhiniveśhaḥ - fear of death, clinging to life

pañcha - five

kleśhāḥ - afflictions

Following on from last months sūtra that presented the elements constituting Kriyā Yoga we now consider the afflictions that cause disturbance, they are known as the kleśhas. Practice aims to reduce their hold over the mind. All painful experiences are based upon these five afflictions and the suffering that results from their entanglement as they fuel the ignorance, attachment and aversion of the mind.

The momentum they generate traps us in the constant game of seeking pleasure, avoiding pain, delaying death and through our experiences defining our individuality and sense of “I”. Our thoughts jump to and fro, wanting things, repelling discomfort and avoiding anything that threatens our self concept. This is why the term ‘monkey mind’ often crops up as a description for the thoughts that jump here, there and everywhere…. Dwelling in the past, feeling anxiety for the future, anything that takes us out of this moment right here and now. Unfortunately without practices that continue to bring us back to the moment, we could spend our lives being somewhere other than where we are.

Ignorance (avidyā) or wrong cognition is the root of the other kleśhas, seeing the non-Self as the Self and going on to identity with a separate existence based on this ignorance (asmitā). This can be quite hard to wrap your head around initially and so in the beginning we may work most tangibly with attachment and aversion, starting to reveal how the things we believe we want can bring suffering just like the things we avoid, for after all the biggest misperception we suffer from is seeing the impermanent as permanent and vice versa.

Interestingly what compels us to begin a yoga practice has it’s roots in the kleśhas, the desire to explore and better ourselves is, at it’s core a want that can create attachment and suffering. This is exactly why it is both useful and important to study yoga within the context of it’s overarching philosophy, something modern day yoga is becoming more and more liable to glossing over. Aṣhṭāṅga practice for many of us, myself included in the beginning, has a very addictive quality, just like the opening weeks or months of a romance. We are enthralled and can’t get enough, sometimes wanting to practice twice a day (crazy behaviour) and getting angry at the moon for being full! Therefore a yogi must be very careful about what drives them because if the development happens only on a level of wanting and achieving they will fall hard at some point in the future when they find that age, loss, decline and death happen eventually to us all. Receiving guidance from those who have walked the path for some while before you cannot be valued enough here in developing a sustainable well-rounded wholehearted yoga practice…

To begin to understand this sūtra better let’s work with Kapotasana as an example, a posture that appears in the second series of the Aṣhṭāṅga āsana practice. For most students this presents a difficult obstacle in our path to progressing further through the series, which when taught traditionally requires the heels to be caught before moving on. (If a flexible student doesn’t meet challenge here, most likely they already met it on the previous posture - Laghu vajrasana).

So commonly a great deal of fear and apprehension arise, the struggle and the aversion is fierce to begin and even when the body catches up with the dynamics of the posture there may still be a lot of mental and emotional agitation to work through. Why do things we don’t want to, when instead we could simply avoid them. Some practitioners fall away at this point, searching for the next thing that will keep them cosy in their established self concept. Meanwhile there can be a great deal of wanting too, to achieve the posture, to move on, to define yourself by having accomplished it, to put yourself through the ringer by pushing and not being patient because your personality naturally is inclined to self imposed punishment, ambition or perfectionism. Perhaps we can see a number of kleśhas at work here, including even the fear of death, which although on reading might sound dramatic when you first step up to have a go, you lean back into the unknown and that can be intensely triggering. In the past I have encountered a few students use the language ‘but I might die’ and although that primal fear can arise I also like to think an old part of them is passing on as they step up to meet new challenges and discoveries. However, the biggest trick of all is seeing the end result of heel catching as the finish line, being identified with the “I-sense” that can do the posture is just another affliction at work! The ego likes to create this mind-body complex when in fact the ‘I’ is ultimately separate from the body. Sadly this is rife in the yoga community right now, filled with glamorous and styled pictures of advanced postures, whilst meanwhile the true yogi might be the one that offers their seat to someone on the train, unidentified with how the world needs to see them. This is a lifetime or many lifetimes work however.

Now of course all of this isn’t limited to this example but any obstacle or challenge you may find mirrored to you, be it on your mat or in the greater scheme of life. In a practice sense whatever postures you find yourself struggling with can be inserted here for greater inquiry, even the ones you do well and think are your favourites… So we circle back to last month’s sūtra and perhaps see more clearly why the facets of Kriyā Yoga offered by Patañjali could keep us on right track. Engaging in purifying practices for the body and life-force, studying ourselves and the wisdom proffered here in the sūtras and elsewhere in the sacred scriptures to elevate the mind, combined with expansive understanding of what this life is all about and devotion to something greater than our small selves could prove very useful in weakening the hold of the kleśhas. Experiment, investigate, things are not what they seem.

So our first full moon of the year happened also to be a blood wolf moon lunar eclipse, sadly when I got up this morning and went outside adventuring it was too cloudy to see, but maybe those of you in different parts of the country and world got lucky! So what with the moon turning red and our sutra of the month (tapaḥ-svādhyāy-eśhvara-praṇidhānāni kriyā-yogaḥ), speaking of practical yoga constituting austerity, self-study and surrender, I thought the concept of fire, heat and gathering together are worthy things to discuss and contemplate this moonday musing.

Over ten years ago I lived in a beautiful, wild place in South Africa for a year and we all regularly used to gather round the fire, bush tv as it was called. To me it was magic, a place of belonging. A coming together of community, a collection of friends sharing stories in a circle round one of man’s great discoveries, taming and using fire to warm our souls and keep our enthusiasm burning. This time in nature and the company of fire left a deep and indelible imprint on me that I have greatly appreciated ever since. A few years after I learnt to start a fire using a bow drill, a committed practice, no easy feat, but nothing directs your intention like an empty belly and the imminent cold of sunset. It felt so empowering to be able to create such a force of nature through sustained and directed attention, and in our spiritual practice it is no different. We use the heat to purify, we look for it, welcome it’s opportunity to shape and mould us, to dance with the flame and cultivate the concentration to contain and use it wisely.

As cultures have always gathered around the fire. We could view the practice space similarly as a coming together of a community (sangha) that provides vital support and inspiration to stay in the heat together, to keep showing up in our conversion with the mystery and commitment to self-study and to be warmed knowing that consciousness is catchy. Surrounded by others engaged in the work, we might just find the resources to ignite our spark or keep our embers burning.

In the world of alchemy the contents of a vessel would be heated to in order to pass through a series of stages on the way to transformation. A metaphor for the experiences of our lives which often require periods of incubation, distillation and condensing in order to be appreciated, valued and understood. Shri K. Pattabhi Jois would refer to the vinyasa system in our Ashtanga practice as a method in which to ‘boil the blood’, to remove the impurities and see what is left. He would speak of the heating of Gold in order to refine it, which parallels with the alchemical process our bodies, minds and hearts pass through in spiritual and soulful practice and also emphasises the special quality of fire and heat in cleansing our universal qualities and unique contribution.

This full moon I would encourage you to ponder fire and what it might represent to you? Working with symbols can have a powerful effect on our psyche. There is nor right or wrong, symbols speak to us collectively yet also with personal nuances…. What can you welcome, what do you resist? A symbol can provide insight into our inner attitudes and their corresponding outer behaviours.

This visualisation is taken from - What we may be by Pierro Ferrucci.

The Flame

Imagine a burning flame. See it dancing, drawing ever changing deigns in the air. Look into it as it moves, seek to experience its fiery quality.

As you keep visualising this flame, think about fire and its manifestations in the psyche: personal warmth and radiance, flaming love or joy, fiery enthusiasm, ardor.

Finally, as you keep the flame in front of your inner eye, slowly imagine that you are animated by that fire, that you are becoming that flame.

The element of fire can be persevering, bold, radiant, confident, honourable, direct, inspired, playful and vibrant. Fire can also be destructive, impulsive, explosive and damaging. How can we contain the fire, celebrate the sacred gift of it’s transformative qualities without putting it out or letting it run wild.

How does fire show up in your approach to practice and life? Do you regularly get burned, suffering injuries, disappointments or frustrations? Or do you shy away from the flame and the risk, inhabiting the shadows unwilling to step toward the fire for fear of it’s intensity and wrath? Instead can you walk the tightrope between these too extremes, allowing fire to be both of value and of consequence. You might also notice the qualities of your fire will wax and wane naturally just like the rhythms of the moon. There are phrases to be had, we throw a log on and sparks fly, over time the log glows from within and finally it breaks up and falls away to make space for new again… Celebrate the phase you are in.

Book 2 - Sūtra 1

tapaḥ-svādhyāy-eśhvara-praṇidhānāni kriyā-yogaḥ

For yogis who have already cultivated a stability of mind, Patañjali’s first book may be all that is required, however for most of us Sādhana Pāda, the second book is a necessary companion for the journey. This book opens with this first sutra presenting three components that together can help us yogis with our distracted minds. Desires (vāsanā) lead to impurities of the mind and so through self-discipline we are invited to challenge the attachments that agitate the mind and strengthen the ego. Rather than being driven to pursue pleasure and pain, with strong determination we can start to see the pitfalls of an existence bound by the ego and take practice to challenge this.

Austerity (tapaḥ) helps the student gain greater control over the body, the senses, the life force (prāṇa) and in turn the mind. Heating or burning away impurities requires discipline. Often Gold is presented here as an example, by applying heat, impurities are removed. Here, our āsana practice can be a hero. We are required to wake earlier than we might wish to, to make a committed effort to be responsible for ourselves and our learning (committing a sequence to memory and being intrigued by what new jewels of wisdom it offers each day), to actually heat up the body internally and invite purification, to sit within discomfort and the unknown, to accept pain/discomfort if we can keep in mind its purifying effects and to engage in all of this under the banner of faith (śraddhā) because it seems those who have gone before us have benefitted to some degree from this method. In addition, to engage in practice may also require changes to our routine, our priorities, our diet, our preferences, our geographical location and so on… We can either be a passenger in our life or we can take the reigns and learn how to steer. In the Bhagavad Gita austerities are considered to be physical, verbal and mental which gives us a clue to ways to tame disturbances by disciplining the body, thoughts, speech and actions. (It is worth noting austerity performed out of self-interest should be avoided and is not the same thing.)

Self-study (svādhyāya) involves both personal reflection to begin to identify how the ego colours our perceptions of the world and hides the True Self and through studies of the scriptures and the use of sacred mantras such as the constant repetition of Om whilst meditating on it’s meaning. To be uplifted through study that is concerned with revealing the True Self. To contemplate the nature of the Self in order to discern its origin. To elevate our understanding and experientially put it into practice. To remember theory must be lived and experienced rather than simply known about. For example, to work with this sutra for the entirety of this moon cycle and beyond, rather than move swiftly forward with the desire to know what is next. Some research suggests it takes 21 days to form a habit, others say 66 days is more likely. Perhaps if we start with 28 days to begin and see if it’s enough of a kickstart to continue forward… If we establish good habits they can become stronger and if we give bad habits less time and space they weaken and may eventually be removed altogether.

Surrender to God (Īshvara-praṇidhāna) To keep the presence of God in the heart at all times, learning to see God in everyone and everything. Becoming a conduit for God/humanity/the divine (whatever manifestation fits your orientation) rather than the ego attaching to our actions. Thus enabling the fruits of our actions to no longer be motivated by selfish desire. We relate and become part of something much bigger and more interconnected. We replace self interest with devotion.

The mind is a habitual beast, falling in grooves it then rigidly maintains. To break bad habits initially requires intense effort and tremendous will power, yet over time the grip of the habit loosens and the pattern can be transformed. This new moon and over it’s journey to fullness and back I invite you to reflect on this sutra as part of your daily practice. Which of the three components do you find easiest? What element may require more consideration? Perhaps you clearly resist an aspect, in which case I would encourage you to be more inquisitive as to the nature of your resistance.

Suggestions this month might be considering why you practice? When you arrive at your mat, what leads you there? What can discomfort reveal to you? How can your mind befit from some structure and guidelines? Who benefits from the fruits of your practice? Is your practice influenced by ego? Is it motivated by desire? Hopefully this is plenty to keep you busy on the road to a steadier state of mind…

Having taught an Aṣhṭāṅga Mysore program in London for the past year it felt appropriate to embark on 2019 by offering these students (and those who know me from further afield) a chance to begin to deepen and extend their curiosity in the yoga realm beyond the physical plane.

There is no better place to turn than the philosophy and wisdom granted to us though the sage Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtras. It is necessary with the sūtras to consult a translation and commentary for further elaboration and exploration and I have chosen mainly to use Bābā Hari Dāss’s commentary as it speaks so eloquently and personally to me. After teaching students for thirty years in America, I feel he shares this ancient wisdom in a digestible way that can come alive in the practicalities of our Western world right here and now. Sadly he passed away last year and I won’t ever have the chance to meet him in the flesh, but I have been fortunate over the years to gain comfort and insight from the teachings conveyed in his books and I hope to share a little of this with you during 2019.

I will start with Book II of the sūtras, Sādhana Pada as it offers us the most tangible practical ways in which to incorporate spiritual practice into our daily lives, and includes the offering of Aṣhṭāṅga, an eight limbed path. Sometimes confusion arises around this term as it features both in the sūtras and as the name for the physical practice we may attend to. Although some say the physical practice and tradition we follow heavily focuses on the third limb of Pañtajali’s system, it has always been my understanding that Shri. K Pattabhi Jois meant our physical practice to extend far beyond that. The series of postures that he prescribed were a gateway into the practice of yoga, by starting with āsana curiosity would be ignited opening the door and encouraging the student to peer deeper into Pañtanjali’s method, whilst also providing a very practical and vivid way in which to explore and integrate it.

Although contradictory to the bulk of information we receive from modern society, which suggests we should constantly wish and want for more things, Sādhana Pada in contrast offers principles and practices that help us to develop freedom from desire and the peace this can bring. Rather than philosophising on principles we are gifted the opportunity to digest the material in an experiential way. My hope is that you will treat each sūtra as a ritual practice to work with over the course of the waxing and waning of the moon. You might begin by chanting the sūtra each morning or holding it in your mind as you go about your day, something to continually reflect upon, for through consideration and repetition understanding begins to take root. Be inquisitive, how can this ancient wisdom be of value to our current predicament. As real change must always start with ourselves, may the methods presented here stimulate personal reflection and integration. Perhaps it is worth trialling some of Patañjali’s suggestions for yourself and seeing first hand whether they encourage and foster positive change. Step by step or moon by moon should I say, I hope to present seeds of wisdom that can percolate and land over the course of the year growing a fuller sense of why we may continually renew our commitment to dive into this magical fountain of knowledge that is yoga.

As Bābā Hari Dāss says

‘Knowledge remains inferential until established by one’s own practice and the Truth is directly perceived.’

He likens regular practice such as daily sādhana to

‘rowing your boat in the middle of the ocean’.

As the shore is not visible it is hard and sometimes frustrating to determine progress. Nonetheless, have faith and keep rowing, for movement is still there. Regular and consistent effort becomes accumulative and although there may not be fireworks there is a deep underlying transformation taking place. To me this metaphor echoes the efforts of our physical āsana practice, gradual incremental change creeps up on us. The philosophy and practice are in fact one and the same.

I will aim to keep these musings as succinct as the information allows, to be a manageable taster that flavours the palate, rather that something that seems overwhelming or complex. However, it is my intention during the coming years to share this wisdom more deeply and directly through person to person contact and immersion.

Rhythm, Ritual and Rewild

Rhythm - A strong or regular pattern of sounds, words or movements. A pattern of change, especially one that happens in nature.

Ritual - A set of fixed actions and sometimes words performed regularly, especially as part of a ceremony.

Rewild - To protect an environment and return it to its natural state.

(These definitions are from the Cambridge dictionary)

These three words have become especially meaningful to me over the course of the last year living in London. As a devoted nature lover for many years I have chosen to spend a great deal of my free time and travels seeking adventures under starry skies. Being immersed in the urban city scape of London in 2018 has not been without wild horizon dreaming and I’ll be honest a fair bit of struggle but I have also come to see that the smallest of reconnection practices can help me greatly with the balance and perspective these landscapes evoke even when they aren’t in reach. Those who know me often comment on my calm and grounded qualities. I owe them largely to time spent in nature and time spent on my yoga mat and consequently, my wish during 2019 is that the insights I share will provide you also with the support, inspiration and guidance necessary to help you land more fully in the greater turning universe we are a part of both in spirit and soul.

I will continue to flow with the cycles of the moon and plan to share a ritual on each new moon in the shape of one of Patanjali’s key yoga sutras. For 2019, I will begin with the second chapter (sadhana pada) which is the portion on practice and offers the most tangible ways in which to work Patanjali’s wisdom into the thread of daily life. My hope is that you will be motivated to treat each sutra as a mantra to work with for the full cycle of the moon as it waxes to full and wanes back to black.

At the full moon I will then share a rhythm practice that dreams of inviting greater wellness, connection and abundance. A rhythm and a ritual to access the wealth and wisdom of the east and west traditions and to stimulate an integrated approach that marries the two aspects creatively. We live in a western world, seek knowledge from the east and ultimately by welcoming more balance and wholeness have the chance to rewild towards our true nature here in the present.

Although the Cambridge dictionary uses this term in reference to reclaiming and restoration of the environment we live in, I like to think us humans can also rewild. Step away from the constant stimulation, the alerts and buzzing screens and instead slow down. Learn from nature’s patience, her joy, her rhythm and her rituals. Take the moon into account, flow with the seasons and honour the natural changes of the year as signposts to sync up.

You can follow along on my webpage or on Instagram @zephyrlily and #rhythmritualrewild but remember it’s ultimately all about letting the knowledge blossom from bud to flower in the tapestry of daily life.

Happy winter solstice, let’s celebrate the return of the light.

2019 seems to be the right time for a little R & R , I hope you agree!